Feathers and Stars
by Duchc
Summary: (Bartleby and Loki Slash Pairing)


_I think it's fair to say that I in no way, shape or form am affiliated with any part/person/phrase from this movie._

_With that in mind, shall we contine?_

_Oh - if you don't like slash, or this pairing, then you cna just leave now._

_ If you want to that is. _

* * *

He never could sleep these days.

Her quirky sense of humour he assumed.

It wasn't the getting to sleep that was the problem, at least, it hadn't been to begin with, no…it had been the dreams…the dreams of blood, feathers and the sour scent of alcohol on his love's breath as he died.

Dead.

By his own hands no less. Bartleby often wondered if he'd done it because he truly believed Loki would hinder him, or if it was just his way of protecting the smaller angel…he lied to himself every night that it was the latter, but he knew, just as he knew that he better not screw it up this time, he knew that it had been his sudden view of a killer.

"The morning star…" he would whisper to himself once the lights were out, when the stars were sailing in the inky night sky and, of course, once Loki was asleep.

That was the problem with being human now, they needed to sleep. And to eat and drink and various other things Bartleby had never really had a taste for…mind you, at least he could drink alcohol now. A smile surfaced as memories of his – their first night as mortals was like.

The brunette sighed, an inexplicably wash of calm filling him, he suspected it was because of the warmth at his side. He shut his eyes for a moment, letting the scent of clean sheets and soap remind him that he was home, listening to the steady breathing that tickled his neck and imagining vividly what heaven would be like.

God had forgiven him and Loki. She had told him so before he died, letting his last moments be happy ones…having your head and chest explode wasn't really a pleasant experience…but he'd taken it like a man. He'd burnt the memory of the searing pain, the feeling of life being ripped from him like his wings being burned down in a hail of bullets.

There was one person who didn't forgive him though.

He could never forgive himself.

Loki would often explain to him that he had been too drunk at the time to remember what had happened, but Bartleby had been very sober, and the memory was one he'd carry to the end of eternity.

"I'm sorry old friend, but you lost the faith."

He could hardly believe he'd said that, but he had. He would lie awake at night, seeing again and again the look on Loki's face when he slid the knife in, the sick feeling of surprised delight at how easily it had broken the flesh, and how quickly it had killed a mere human…but the one thing he remembered most?

The look in Loki's eyes as he was forced from life. The innocent adoration in those orbs, the love adorned with disappointment. Not anger, not fear, not even hate…just disappointment. It was that that hurt Bartleby the most, the fact that even in the worst of betrayals, Loki hadn't even been able to condemn him, hadn't been…weak enough to resent him. He really was a simple creature, but Bartleby would give the stars in the sky, his once admirable wings and all of the universe if it meant his soul mate would be happy. He smiled unconsciously, thinking of the morning that would come soon.

In the morning, Loki would wake with a smile, not knowing that Bartleby hadn't slept at all, and every morning, Loki would tell him that he loved him…and Bartleby's reply was always the same.

"Can you say those words to a murderer?"

And Loki would smile again, holding Bartleby tighter and would just kiss him.

Bartleby opened his eyes, surprised to find that somehow, in those few moments, the dark sea of the night had swept away, and the bedroom had been invaded by the rays of light he'd come to appreciate so much in his time on earth as one of God's revered humans.

He'd fallen asleep.

For the first time in so long…he'd slept, a sweet dreamless sleep. Admittedly it had only been a few hours…but still…an odd feeling in his gut, he looked down at his sleeping partner.

Loki was smiling up at him as usual.

Bartleby smiled back and beat him to it.

"I love you."

Loki blinked in surprise, but as ever, his simplicity was his strength and he wrapped an arm around Bartleby's waist, holding him tightly.

Bartleby said a silent prayer.

A simple thank you, for his simple creature.


End file.
